


First Meeting

by Vhenana



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Animal Friendship, Child J4, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 00:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhenana/pseuds/Vhenana
Summary: Prince Jarvan the Fourth is always excited when he manages to escape his duties and lessons. This time, he manages to come across the people who breed and take care of the Lightshield's Silverwings.When they were taking the hatchlings out for training, they missed one, and Jarvan decides to keep him company.





	First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Parakonan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parakonan/gifts).



> This was commissioned by the best J4 roleplayer I know; we both want to see him as a babie.

If the King could see his son, he would throw a fit. The young Prince was running across the giant field that sat at the right of Citadel of Dawn in naught but his shorts and t-shirt, pretending that he didn’t feel anything that he stood on. His face was full of glee, and he was smiling so wide at the idea of freedom, the gap from the two front teeth that he had lost in a training accident was on show for everyone that might have looked his way. Jarvan couldn’t have been more than six years old, his wide, deep blue eyes and messy dark brown hair showing all of his youth. 

“Get that one under control!” The shout surprised him, and  Jarvan  ducked behind the tall, stone wall of a stable, peeking around the corner. He watched in awe as a group of soldiers pulled on the reins of an angry Silverwing, trying to avoid the sharp beak and talons.  Silverwings  were revered by all  Demacian  soldiers; the mix of scale and feathers growing to be as long as fifty feet, and their wingspans could reach at least a hundred. The feathers on their wings brew to points that almost reached their tails, and their beaks could break through pure steel. They were the perfect creatures to ride into battle onto, but  Demacians  had to earn their trust. Trying to ride an unfriendly Silverwing was a death sentence. 

After a few minutes, the Silverwing was calmed, and she lifted her wing, revealing the group of five newly hatched chicks. They were all curious about the world, chirping and screeching. 

“Alright, come on. We need to start training them.” The soldier approached the chicks again, watching their mother in worry as he carefully lifted them into a large basket, then showed her to make sure that she stayed calm.  Jarvan  watched them walk towards the wall, most likely heading towards High Silvermere. When he was sure that he was safe, the young prince walked out of his hiding place and around to the open stable doors. It was large enough to house at least five  Silverwings , so some of them would be moved as they grew. They would most likely fly into battle as soon as they were big enough. 

A couple of soft chirps caught  Jarvan’s  attention. He couldn’t still hear the big one, could he? He turned to look, and the chirps came again. They must be inside. As he walked inside, the hay pricked his bare feet, but it went ignored. He followed the sound of the chirps to the pile of hay in the corner. There were still a few shards of egg, but some of the hay was  _ moving _ .  Jarvan  pulled some of it away in his small fists, gasping when he found a forgotten Silverwing. 

“Hey!” He smiled wide at it, and the chick some hay out of his feathers. “Did you get left behind?” It chirped again, letting  Jarvan  lift it out of the hay. As a chick, the two of them were around the same size. The feathers on his tail and wings were little more than stubs, and both his claws and beak were blunt. Still, it appreciated being picked up and carried out of the dim stables in  Jarvan’s  arms. As the sunlight his the Silverwing’s eyes, it blinked and screeched. 

“I don’t like it when the sun wakes me up, either.” The prince huffed, sitting down in the grass with the chick on his lap. He ruffled his feathers in an attempt to pet him, earning a screech in response. “Uh, how about...”  Jarvan  started to scratch its chin, and the chick’s eyes closed as he leaned into his hand. “I’ve never been close to a Silverwing before... Father tells me that they’re dangerous.” The chick definitely wasn’t dangerous so far. “Do you have a name?” 

He obviously got no response and huffed, laying on his back to stare at the sky. 

“There aren’t even any shapes in the clouds...” The Silverwing started to scratch his feathers with one of his back feet. “You  kinda  look like a cloud.”  Jarvan  moved his head to look at his new friend. “A sharp cloud.” He got a chirp in response. “Are you really  gonna  grow as big as your mother?” Another chirp. “I  wanna  grow that big, but I hate my vegetables.” There weren’t any interesting shapes in the clouds today. The Prince sighed again and propped himself up on his elbows. As he did, the Silverwing turned to look at him and scrabbled on the ground on its blunt talons on the ground, laying on  Jarvan’s  chest and gently nudging his cheek. 

“What do you want?” He asked, giggling. “I don’t have any snacks for you, and the soldiers left already.” The Silverwing screeched and waved its useless wings a couple of times before laying down. “Or do you just like hugging?”  Jarvan  petted the scales on its spine and looked at the clouds again. “Father told me that I can’t have a Silverwing until I’m older, and they need a lot of training.” The chick chirped and nudged the Prince’s cheek again, making him laugh. “I’m tough enough to train you! We’re already friends!” 

“Is that so?” The gruff voice surprised them both, and  Jarvan  sat up, cradling the Silverwing with both hands to make sure that  he  didn’t tumble off his lap. 

“Father!” King  Jarvan  the Third looked down at his son, his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t dressed in his armour; the information that his son had managed to sneak away from his lessons wasn’t taken happily. 

“Where did you find that?” He asked, kneeling down. The King had watched his son play with the chick for a few minutes, wondering where it had come from. The Prince beamed and lifted one of  its  talons. 

“He was in the hay in the stables!”  Jarvan  stood up, lifting the Silverwing and smiling as it wrapped its tail around his waist. “I think his mother forgot to pick him up.” 

“You don’t stray from danger, do you?” The King smiled softly and  ruffled  his son’s hair. “It’s still too dangerous for you to have a Silverwing.”

“ No  it’s not! I just thought of a name for him! And he can sleep in my bed!” 

“Jarvan...” 

“His name is Cirrus! Like the cloud! He looks like a cloud!” 

“How can I expect you to take care of a dangerous creature if I can’t even expect you to go to your lessons?”  Jarvan  stopped and looked at his feet. “A Prince must do his duty, Jarvan. Skipping out on your lessons is irresponsible.” 

“If you let me keep Cirrus, I’ll always go to my lessons! I’ll never ever skip out on anything ever again if you let me keep Cirrus!” The King had always thought of himself as a strict father, but his resolve was starting to waver...

~X~

Pushing his last paper aside, Prince  Jarvan  sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair, turning side to side to work out the kinks in his back. Paperwork was the worst... Yawning, he scratched the stubble on his cheek and stood up, walking to the window. Everything had been done for the day, but now the sky was dark, stars littering the sky. The responsible thing would be to go to sleep. However, who said that he had to be responsible right now. 

Putting his two index fingers in his mouth,  Jarvan  whistled sharply and waited. A loud screech pierced the night air, and he waited to hear the beating of wings. Grinning, the Prince climbed up and balanced on his window frame for a few moments, then jumped. He was on the highest level of the Citadel of Dawn, and fell for a few seconds before Cirrus flew towards him, screeching. 

Jarvan  caught onto his thick feathers and pulled himself up onto his best friend’s back, cheering and laughing as they flew through  Demacia’s  night air. 


End file.
